


Sixth Grade

by Cade



Category: Recess (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-05-30 16:16:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15100448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cade/pseuds/Cade
Summary: The gang start another new year of school, and there are a lot of changes. Mr. Dudikoff is their teacher? T. J. is king? But things aren't quite as great as they might seem...





	1. The Sucessor

Chapter One: The Successor

"Gathering of the Grades! Gathering of the Grades!" Menlo's megaphone-enhanced voice echoed throughout the playground.

"A Gathering of the Grades? On the last day of school?" Gus Griswald asked in bemusement, looking up from where he and his five best friends were trading baseball cards. "What's King Freddy up to?"

"Isn't it obvious, Gus?" Vince Lasalle replied, putting his cards back in his pocket. "He's getting ready to announce his successor!"

"Yeesh, I hope it's not Menlo," groused Ashley Spinelli, less than thrilled about the idea of the current king's organization-obsessed messenger boy taking the throne.

"It may be even worse than that," Gretchen Grundler said as she adjusted her glasses. "Recently I've heard rumors that Ashley A. is being considered."

"Queen Ashley? Just saying those words puts a bad taste in my mouth!" Spinelli spat.

"She'd probably force us all to wear tutus or something," T. J. Detweiler shuddered.

"Even the boys?" Gus asked in apprehension.

"I don't know, tutus wouldn't be all that bad," Mikey Blumberg mused to himself, attracting an exasperated glance from his friends.

"Well we'll just have to deal with it when and if it happens. Right now, we'd better report to the jungle gym," T. J. said.

A massive crowd containing everyone from Kindergarteners to Sixth Graders had already massed around the jungle gym housing the king's throne when the six friends arrived. Murmurs and speculation spread throughout the huge group of kids, but soon one distinctive voice rose up above all of the others.

"Alright people, get in line, one at a time, no pushing. Taking all bets - comic books, cash, candy, toys, whatever you got, step right up," Hustler Kid announced, setting up a foldable table and placing a list of marked charts on it "Who's going to be our next ruler? Feel free to contribute to the pot. Of course, I'm keeping a twenty percent bookie's fee for myself."

"Like, six tubes of lip gloss on Ashley A.!" announced a high-strung girl wearing a bright yellow dress.

"Decent bet, Ashley B." Hustler kid replied, taking the proffered cosmetics. "Word around the playground is that she's definitely in the running."

Suddenly a commotion arose from further back in the crowd. "Hey, out of the way! Let me through or I'll tell Ms. Finster- ah, finally!" A certain weasel-like fifth grader smiled as he broke through the crowd and approached Hustler Kid's table.

"Hey Randall, what have you got for me?"

"How's this?" Randall asked, taking out a large bag of marbles.

"Hmm... that's quite a fortune," Hustler Kid said as he examined the merchandise. "Who are you betting on?"

"Yours truly, of course!" the snitch announced with pride. This triggered a round of giggling from the surrounding kids.

"Yeah right, like King Freddy would pick you!" Irwin Lawson mocked. "He has a better chance of picking me, and I'm about to graduate!"

"You laugh now, but you'll soon be singing a different tune," Randall cackled as Hustler Kid marked his bet on the chart. "I just happen to be a shoo-in for the next king!"

"Randall sure seems confident," Gus commented from a few yards away.

"Yeah, something smells. You think he has some dirt on King Freddy?" Spinelli asked.

"Freddy's about to graduate, what kind of dirt could Randall possibly have on him?" T. J. replied. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about."

"I certainly hope so," Gretchen added, "because a hypothetical King Randall would be even worse than Queen Ashley." The six friends all nodded in agreement.

Just then, a voice rang out from the jungle gym. "Everyone, be silent and heed the words of your king!" proclaimed a sixth grader. Another kid began blowing a trumpet as King Freddy approached the now-pacified crowd.

"Kids of the Playground," he announced, "it's been a good year, all things considered, but now it's finally time to choose my successor." The crowd stood silently, enraptured by the anticipation.

"I've spent a long time thinking about this, but I've finally picked the perfect candidate. The kid I have chosen may surprise you, as we were never close friends in the past-" Randall snickered, rubbing his hands together, "but this kid already has leadership experience, being in charge of their own clique," he continued. Ashley A. began grinning.

"So, without further ado, I hereby announce that the next ruler of the Third Street Playground will be - T. J. Detweiler!"

"Like, what!?" Ashley A. said, incredulous.

"Aw man, it's the Principal for a Day contest all over again," Randall muttered.

The rest of the student body, though, erupted in applause.

"T. J. Detweiler, huh? Good for hi- wait, huh!?" T. J. himself stuttered, taken by complete surprise. The cheering crowd immediately parted around him, leaving an open path to the base of the jungle gym.

Before he could approach the throne, however, another voice called out.

"Hey King Freddy, what happened to our deal!?"

Looking surprisingly unperturbed, the king turned to address the interloper. "What deal are you talking about, Randall? I seem to have forgotten."

"You know, the deal where you make me king and I get you everything in the June Box before Ms. Finster can return it to the other ki- um... heh heh..." Randall stopped, now realizing that he had said too much as the crowd surrounding him were now all glaring daggers in his direction. "Ms. Finster! Ms. Finster! Help!" he screamed as he ran towards the school, pursued by a dozen or so angry kids.

"As if I would ever have agreed to that," King Freddy reassured his subjects. "I still remember when he was Prince. No way I'm letting that happen again."

By this time, T. J. had reached the jungle gym and was being escorted to the top by two of the king's guards. "Good one, your majesty," he laughed, how having a perfect vantage point to watch Randall run for his life. "But if you don't mind me asking, uh, no disrespect or anything, but why me?"

King Freddy sighed, turning away from the crowd gathered below to address T. J. "I'll admit, Detweiler, I didn't really like you all that much last year, especially after you let those first graders into the club," he said, speaking quietly so only T.J. and the staff around them could hear.

"I had a good reason for what I did," the red cap-wearing boy replied assertively.

"Yeah, whatever. But the fact is, you've saved the entire playground what, seven times this year?"

"Eight, actually, but who's counting?" T. J. replied.

"And not only that, but you and your friends even saved me personally from those anarchist kids."

"Hey, just part of an honest day's work."

"And that's exactly why I chose you. I need someone who won't make the same mistakes I did, someone who really cares about looking out for all of the kids in the school. I think I've done a pretty good job, at least after King Bob showed up to set me straight, but I'm willing to bet that you'll do even better."

"Wow, you really think so?"

"Yes. Now-" the sixth grader cleared his throat and turned to announce the crowd again.

"Everyone, don't forget to report back here at second recess for King T. J.'s coronation! For now, you may return to your fun and games!"

The crowd cheered one more time and then dispersed, intent on enjoying recess on their last day of school.


	2. The Coronation

**Chapter 2: The Coronation**

'King T. J., huh? It has a nice ring to it,' thought the future monarch as he took a minute to look around the playground from the vantage point on top of the jungle gym. When he was younger, the playground had seemed absolutely enormous, but as he grew up it began to seem smaller and smaller. Right now, however, it suddenly looked pretty big again. Sure, he was excited, but also a little nervous. Despite what he had used to believe, he knew that being king was a big responsibility. He reassured himself with the thought that he would always have his friends to help him.

"Well, don't want to keep the gang waiting," he muttered as he climbed down to meet up with them.

"Great going, Teej!" Spinelli exclaimed, patting her friend on the back as he returned from his meeting with King Freddy. "I always knew you had it in you!"

"You did?"

"Sure! With you as king, sixth grade is going to be a blast!"

"Indeed," Gretchen added. "Several kids have already approached us and attempted to curry our favor, knowing that we're best friends with the heir apparent."

"I don't know, you guys. This might not be such a good thing," Mikey warned.

"Huh? What are you talking about, Mikey?" said Vince.

"Remember what happened last time one of us was king?" he said, looking at the short boy standing next to him.

"Hey, that was a long time ago!" Gus objected. "Besides, I already apologized like a million times for getting carried away like that."

"Come on, this is T. J. we're talking about," Vince said. "He's not going to go crazy like Gus did."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, actually," Gretchen said. "Even T. J. is not immune to the corruption of power. I trust you all remember the time he became a ruthless Monsticker tycoon?"

"Yeah, or the time he was principal for a day?" Spinelli added.

"Aw, come on, that was back in fourth grade! I'm older and wiser now, and I'm not going to make the same mistakes," T. J. assured them.

"Let's hope so," Gus said.

"Trust me Gus, I'll be a king everyone will love. I've already got all kinds of ideas!"

"Care to share them with us?" Mikey asked.

"Sure," he said, huddling together with his friends as they began whispering.

They were soon interrupted by a very loud voice.

"Hey Dork-Weiler! I'm sure glad I'm going to be in middle school next year so I won't have to be, uh, king-ed by you!"

"You mean ruled, Lawson," Gretchen corrected him.

"Shove it Lawson or you'll be entering seventh grade in a body cast!" Spinelli shouted.

"Cool it, Spinelli. It's just Lawson being Lawson. Anyway, as I was saying..." T. J. continued, returning to the huddle.

Later, back in class, Ms. Finster was scowling even more than usual as she addressed the kids, now almost as wild as Kindergarteners as they waited for the second recess bell to chime.

"All right, calm down, you hooligans!" she shouted, slapping a ruler against her desk. "I bet you all probably think you're done with me for the year, huh? Well you've got another thing coming!" She took out a bag and placed several huge stacks of paper on her desk. "In order to make sure you don't slack off during summer vacation, I'm giving you all a comprehensive homework course!"

"Homework? Over summer vacation?" Spinelli shouted.

"That's downright cruel and inhuman!" Mikey added.

Finster smiled. She had been waiting to spring this on them for over a week now. "Since you have three whole months to get it all done, I'm giving you all ten thousand math problems, twenty essays, fifty book reports, a thousand grammar exercises-" she stopped mid-sentence as she noticed that one particular student didn't seem to be paying attention.

"Detweiler! Stop staring out that window and daydreaming right now or I'll double your homework load!"

"Sorry Ms. Finster," T. J. said, immediately snapping to attention. "I've just kind of, uh, got something on my mind right now."

"Something other than my lesson?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Well then," Ms. Finster said, grinning menacingly, "perhaps you'd care to share with the rest of the class?"

"I'm pretty sure they already know," T. J. replied nonchalantly. This took Finster by surprise, as she was hoping to embarrass the little troublemaker publicly as she had so often done in the past.

"What are you talking about, boy?"

"Haven't you heard? T. J.'s going to be king next year!" Phil exclaimed. The rest of the class began cheering.

"Hey! Pipe down you brats! I still haven't gone over your science, history, and social studies homework!"

Just then, a very welcome sound intruded on the class.

"Sorry Ms. Finster, that's the bell. Gotta go!" T. J. said, rushing out the door with the other students.

"No good miscreants..." Ms. Finster muttered to herself as she gathered up some of the homework papers that had been scattered by the kids' abrupt exit. "And Detweiler as king? Maybe I should think about retiring..."

The crowd around the jungle gym was smaller this time, as most of the kids were busy making the most of their last recess of the year, but there were still a few dozen kids gathered thereabouts as King Freddy and T. J. stood where everyone could see them clearly.

"As king of the Third Street playground, I, Freddy II, officially pass my title and crown onto King T. J.!" With that, he removed his yellow headpiece, replacing the 'F' with a stenciled 'TJ', and placed it on his successor's head. "Make sure you do a good job, and, um... that's it I guess. See you when you reach middle school!"

"The King has graduated! Long live the king!" Menlo announced, as the crowd began to cheer, accompanied by the Safety Rangers' kazoo rendition of Hail to the Chief.

"That so totally should have been you up there," Ashley Q. said, as she and her friends watched the ceremony from the back of the crowd.

"I know, right?" Ashley A. pouted. "I can't believe King Freddy picked Detweiler. What does he have that I don't?"

"It's not so bad," Ashley T. said. "I can think of a lot of worse choices he could have made."

"Yeah, like Randall," Ashley B. added. The four girls shuddered in unison at the thought of that.

"I gotta admit, this is pretty great, but I'm not sure about the crown thing," T. J. said, taking off the yellow headpiece and swapping it for his trademark red baseball cap. "I don't want to give up wearing my old hat."

"How dare you disrespect the royal crown! It's one of the oldest traditions of the playground! Your little hat is nothing compared to-"

"Calm down, Menlo," King Freddy said. "There's an easy solution to this." He took the crown out of T. J.'s hands and then placed it on his head, over the baseball cap this time, so only the brim was visible protruding from the back. He then took out a hand mirror for T. J. to examine himself with. "See? Perfect fit."

"Tender," T. J. said. "I have a feeling sixth grade is going to be the greatest year yet!"


	3. The First Day of Sixth Grade, Part 1

**Chapter 3: The First Day of Sixth Grade, Part 1**

Summer vacation came and went. T. J. and his friends didn't save the world again like they had the previous year, but they did have a lot of fun together, during the times when they weren't away at camp. They had done everything from catching tadpoles down at the creek, to visiting their elderly friends at the retirement center, to taking turns riding in Gretchen's new rocketship (which didn't quite reach space, but was still a blast to fly in). But throughout it all, T. J. had a certain song from The Lion King stuck in his head, and for the first time in his life, he was actually sort of looking forward to starting school again. He just hoped that whoever his teacher was wouldn't be too harsh on him for failing to finish Finster's homework assignments. It wasn't like he hadn't even tried to do any of the work... well, if you counted half an hour last week as trying, anyway.

* * *

 

On the first day of school, T. J. arrived fifteen minutes early and peered through the chain link fence to examine the empty playground. It was the same as it had always been, except this year, it belonged to him.

"Quite a splendid vista, isn't it, your majesty?" T. J. turned around in surprise.

"Menlo! What are you doing here?"

"I always come to school early. I just finished helping Ms. Lemon coordinate the bus schedules for the semester, and I was about to inspect the bike racks in case any maintenance is required."

"Sounds like fun."

"Indeed," Menlo replied, missing T. J.'s sarcasm. "But then I noticed you. I must say, I am surprised. I've never known you to show up early for school."

"I've never been king before," T. J. replied, looking over at the jungle gym. "That is, unless you count that one time where nearly everyone was out sick and I spent all recess sitting on King Bob's throne pretending to order people around."

"Now you can order them around for real," Menlo said. "May I ask why you're not wearing your crown, though?"

"It's in my backpack," T. J. replied flippantly.

"Now, T. J., I've told you before how unbecoming of a ruler it is to treat the royal crown with such-"

"Would you cool it about the crown, Menlo? I'll put it on during recess, okay?"

"That's wonderful, sire. It wouldn't do to be seen without your official regalia when you make your inauguration speech."

T. J.'s eyes narrowed in confusion. "Whatchoo talkin' about, Menlo?"

"Don't you remember? At the start of recess every year, the new king always makes a speech detailing their plan for the semester, as well as appointing their staff and servants. King Bob and King Freddy both gave quite rousing announcements on their first day."

"I guess I never really payed attention, I was always busy playing," T. J. shrugged.

"The inauguration procedures are also covered in the Constitution of the Playground. You did memorize it over the summer, didn't you?"

"Uh... sure I did," T. J. said, laughing nervously.

"Don't worry, your highness," Menlo said, seeing through T. J.'s lie. "Luckily, I'm eminently knowledgeable in all matters of Playground Law and decorum. Now the first and most important position will be your Royal Advisor..."

* * *

 

"-and for your Royal Announcer, a kid with a very loud voice is preferred," Menlo continued, as he and T. J. walked into their classroom.

"Hey, if it isn't my main man T. J. Detweiler!" a familiar adult voice interrupted them. T. J. looked up and did a double take.

"Mr. Dudikoff? What are you doing here?"

"Haven't you heard! I'm your homeroom teacher this year!"

"Really? Supple!" T. J. replied, using his idol's catchphrase.

"I don't suppose you also give lessons on being King of the Playground, do you?"

"No, why would I -" The Dude paused, the implications hitting him. "Don't tell me you're-"

"Yep," the new king said, reaching into his backpack and grabbing his crown, now emblazoned with a much more permanent pair of letters on the front in red ink.

"Congratulations, man! It's a big seat, but I know you'll fill it well!"

"King T. J. appreciates the vote of confidence. Mr. Dudikoff," Menlo replied, quickly ushering the king to a desk so he could continue prepping him for the inauguration speech. Just then, the bell rang, and a couple dozen kids stormed into the classroom.

"Hey T. J.", Vince said, taking a desk to the left of his friend, but then casting a suspicious glance at the occupant of the desk to the right of him. "What are you doing hanging out with Menlo?"

"We're not hanging out," T. J. objected. "Menlo was just giving me some tips on king stuff."

"Indeed," Menlo added, his tone of voice indicating he was slightly off-put by T. J.'s irreverent choice of words. "After all, I was King Freddy's official Messenger Boy last year, and the most senior of his staff who haven't yet left for middle school, so it's only natural that King T. J. would seek my advice."

"I guess that makes sense," said Vince, as he began unpacking his backpack.

"All right everyone, quiet down," The Dude said. "For those who don't know me, my name is - um, yes, Ms. Grundler?" he paused, noticing Gretchen's hand high in the air.

"Before we begin our lessons, may I hand in my homework?"

"Homework?"

"Yes. Ms Finster assigned us a considerable amount of work over summer vacation. In fact-" she paused to take something out of her backpack, "Carrying all of it as paperwork was frankly beyond the limits of my physical endurance, so I had it transcribed onto a series of CD-Rom discs. They also include the extra credit work," she said, handing the computer discs to the teacher.

"Finster sure hasn't changed, has she?" Mr. Dudikoff mumbled as he took the discs. "Thank you, Gretchen. Does anyone else have any homework to hand in?" The rest of the class groaned in unison.

* * *

 

"Man, it's a good thing Mr. Dudikoff didn't get mad that no one other than Gretchen did our homework," Gus said, as he and his friends emerged onto the playground for the first recess of the year.

"Hey, he said that since he didn't assign it, it wasn't his concern, and who am I to argue with him?" T. J. smiled.

"Although if you had done the work you would have received a significant head start on your grade for this semester," Gretchen pointed out.

"Are we really standing around talking about homework? Come on, it's recess! I say we play some kickball!" Spinelli shouted.

"Sounds fun!" Gus said.

"Count me in," said Vince. "How about you, Teej?"

"I'd love to, but I kind of have to do this speech thing, Don't worry, I can join you guys later."

"Ah yes, the Royal Inauguration Speech, most august of playground traditions!" Mikey mused.

"Come to think of it, you guys should probably come watch. I have a feeling you'll like what you hear," T. J. said, winking.

* * *

 

Much like the coronation ceremony, there was only a small crowd surrounding the jungle gym, as most of the other kids were busy playing, but those who were in attendance watched with rapt attention. "Now just remember what I told you, your majesty," Menlo whispered, as T. J. donned his yellow crown and walked to the edge of the Jungle Gym.

"Kids of the playground!," he began, trying not to lapse too far into his old King Bob impression, "As the king who will lead you into the new millennium, I promise to uphold justice and the Law of the Playground, and to stamp out corruption wherever I find it! And last but not least, I promise to make recess at least 40% more fun than it was last year!" The assembled crowd cheered. T. J. admitted that it was a good line, although he wasn't sure exactly how he would actually pull it off. Oh well, he could always figure that out later.

"And now to appoint my staff," he said. "For my Royal Advisor, I choose the smartest kid in school, Gretchen Grundler!" A cheer rang out as Gretchen ascended the ladder to the top of the jungle gym. "I'm honored, your majesty," she said, bowing politely. Menlo looked a bit downcast and T. J. did feel sort of bad for the guy, but he wasn't planning on leaving him with nothing after he had been nice enough to help him out so much.

"For my Minister of Sports and Games, I appoint the most athletic kid on the playground, Vince Lasalle!"

"Awesome!" Vince declared, climbing up to join the others.

"And for my Chief Bodyguard, I pick the toughest kid I know, Spinelli!"

"Sweet!" the Italian girl grinned, flexing her arms as she walked towards the jungle gym. "Anyone who tries to mess with the king is gonna regret it!"

"And what, pray tell, will be my position, your grace?" Mikey asked.

"I was just getting to you, Mikey. You're going to be my Royal Announcer."

"Can I do my announcements in song?"

"Sure thing, buddy."

"What position do I get, T. J.?" Gus asked eagerly.

"Um..." the king laughed nervously.

"You do have a position for me, don't you?"

"Of course I do. Gus, I appoint you as the playground's, um... Secretary of Defense!"

"Secretary of Defense? Oh boy! Dad will be so proud of me!"

Menlo gave T. J. a sidelong glance and T. J. tugged his collar a bit, but then quickly moved on to the next appointment. "And last but not least, I assign the very important job of Schedule Coordinator to Menlo!"

"Hey, it may not be Royal Advisor, but it's a step above Messenger Boy. I'll take it!"

"There, am I done now?" T. J. asked.

"Not quite, sire," Menlo said. "You still have nineteen more positions to fill."

"Oh. Um..." he looked down at the crowd, who were still anticipating his choices.

"I guess that I'll just pick everyone who worked for King Freddy last year."

Over a dozen kids broke from the crowd and approached the jungle gym. "A wise decision," Gretchen said. "Experience is always a useful qualification." T. J. sighed, collapsing back into his throne. The leather seat felt more comfortable than he remembered. A few minutes later, Menlo approached him.

"Excuse me sire, but we're still missing a Fanner Boy."

"Fanner Boy, huh?" T. J. said, looking around the group of kids who were standing at attention on and around the jungle gym. "Wasn't Mac over there King Freddy's fanner last year?"

"Yes, but he just took the opportunity to move up to security guard #4, as the previous holder of that position has moved on to seventh grade. Frankly, no one wants to be the Fanner Boy."

"I guess I could make Randall do it then," T. J. laughed.

"Excuse me, your majesty," Gretchen spoke up. "I believe I have a solution to this problem." She reached into a bag and took out a small mechanical fan, placing it near the throne and turning it on.

"What happens when it runs out of batteries?" T. J. asked.

"That's what this solar charger is for," she replied, taking out a power adapter connected to a solar panel.

"Works for me. Thanks Gretchen!" She smiled and walked away. "You know, maybe this king stuff won't be so hard after all," he muttered to himself.

"Wait a second, Secretary of Defense?" Gus muttered. "But we don't even have a military!"


	4. The First Day of SIxth Grade, Part 2

**Chapter 4: The First Day of Sixth Grade, Part 2**

"Man, I'm bored," T. J. said, after spending all of a minute sitting on the throne.

"Perhaps this will help entertain your majesty?" one of King Freddy's former assistants said, handing T. J. a comic book.

"Señor Fusion Number six sixty-two? That isn't even supposed to come out until next week! How did you get this?"

"My uncle works at a distribution center," the aid replied. "He has access to all of the latest comics before they even make it to the comic shops."

"Just one of the many royal perks you'll be enjoying this year," a second assistant added.

"Do those royal perks include anything to eat? I kind of forgot to pack my lunch today, and I didn't even bring any money to get a hamburger from the cafeteria."

"Hamburgers? If I may be so bold, sire, the royal palate deserves much better - like this!" The boy reached behind his back and took out a large silver plate, taking off the cap to reveal a perfectly cooked, steaming steak, along with snacks and a drink.

"Filet mignon, straight from Chef Pierrot in the Teacher's Lounge," he said, handing the plate to T. J.

"With winger dingers and a soda on the side!" T. J. exclaimed, taking a bite. "Tender... literally! Man, you guys are good. What are your names, again?"

"I'm Joe,"

"And I'm Paul," the two introduced themselves.

"Remind me to put you both up for royal commendations," smiled T. J. as he took a sip of his soda. "Which reminds me, I've got a declaration to make. Scribe kid?"

A third-grade girl with a notepad and a pencil stepped forward.

"Let it be known that March 31st will officially be known as Prank Finster Day! She'll be so busy preparing for April Fools Day that she'll never see it coming!"

The girl furiously scribbled down the announcement and then left to go spread the word across the playground.

Not long afterwards, Gus approached the throne.

"Hey T. J..."

"Yeah, Gus?" T. J. said between bites of his filet mignon.

"I know you're the king and all, but it's recess. Aren't we going to play or something?"

"You know what? You're right," T. J. said, placing the plate with the half-eaten steak on a side table. "Sitting in the big chair, reading comic books and eating fancy food is great and all, but right now I'm in the mood for a game of tetherball."

"We'll prepare your litter, sire," Menlo said, snapping his fingers at a group of kids who proceeded to take the mobile chair out of storage.

"Uh, do I really need to ride in that thing?" T. J. asked, eyeing the vehicle skeptically.

"It's a royal tradition!" Menlo declared.

"It is important for a king to keep up appearances," Gretchen added.

"I'm just not sure how I feel about making a bunch of other kids carry me around."

"It's fine, your majesty," one of the litter-bearers shouted from the base of the jungle gym. "We're used to it. Besides, it's actually great exercise. My performance in gym skyrocketed last year after I started carrying around King Freddy."

"Really?" Vince asked, intrigued. "Hey, let me try it!"

"You really want to?" T. J. asked.

"Sure. I mean we're just going to the tetherball courts, after all," Vince said, taking the slide down to join the other litter-bearers.

"Ah, what the hey," T. J. said, following him.

"I have to admit, this thing is pretty comfortable," he said, as he took his seat. Vince and the other three kids lifted the chair and they were off.

As they approached the tetherballl courts, T. J. noticed one of the players who was already there.

"Hey, that kid's pretty good. What's his name?"

"That would be Brandon Miller, currently in fourth grade," Menlo answered, walking alongside the king's litter.

"He's a lot better than I was back in fourth grade. I wonder if-" His musing was cut off by a familiar yell.

"Sixth Graders!" A girl shouted, pointing at the approaching king and his entourage. Immediately the small crowd around the tetherball poles dispersed and everyone stood aside to let them through.

"Man, I'm used to hearing that from the other side," T. J. mumbled, as he jumped to the ground. "Hey, Brandon, right?" he addressed the kid he had spotted earlier.

"W-what did I do?" the younger boy asked nervously.

"Nothing. I was just wondering if you were up for a game of tetherball, that's all."

"Me? S-sure!"

Whispers broke out around them, and a larger crowd started to gather. "Brandon's going to play tetherball with the king! I wonder why he picked him?"

T. J. did his best to ignore them as he made the first serve. Brandon hit the ball back, but T. J. was able to easily counter it and send it wrapping around the pole.

"Good one, your majesty!" one of his litter-bearers called out from a few feet away. T. J. shrugged and started another round, letting Brandon serve this time. Once again, T. J. easily won.

"Okay, what's going on here?" T. J. asked, annoyed.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir," Brandon said timidly.

"I saw you playing earlier, and you were way better than this! What's the big idea?"

"Um, well... I just figured that you might get mad if I, uh, beat you..."

"Listen, kid," T. J. began, taking off his crown to reveal his red baseball cap, "just because I'm king doesn't mean that I want people letting me win all the time. Where's the fun in that? I'm more likely to get mad if you don't try and beat me! So this time, give it your all, okay?"

"Yes sir, King T. J.!" Brandon replied, as they prepared for another round.

Several minutes later, just as T. J. was about to serve the tetherball again, he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Excuse me sire-"

"What is it, Menlo? Can't you see I'm in the middle of a game here?"

"I'm sorry your highness, but a situation has come up that demands your urgent attention."

"Fine," the king sighed, putting his crown back on as he dropped the tetherball. "We'll finish this later. Remember, we're doing best six out of ten, so just because you're a point ahead doesn't mean you've won yet," he told Brandon, as he left to follow Menlo.

His Schedule Coordinator led him, surprisingly, to Spinelli, who, along with another one of his guards, had a fourth grader restrained between them.

"What's going on here? Who is that kid?"

"Benjamin Andrews, sir," Menlo answered. "He just enrolled this year."

"We caught this creep beating up second graders for lunch money!" Spinelli shouted.

"Beating up second graders for lunch money!?" T. J. repeated in disgust.

"Shall we take him to the dodgeball wall?" the other guard asked.

"Hey, come on," Ben groveled, getting on his knees. "I didn't hurt anyone too bad! Besides, I'm new, I didn't know any better! It's the first day of school, so can't you let me off, just this once?"

Spinelli rolled her eyes at the kid's pathetic attempt to weasel his way out of punishment, but then to her surprise T. J. hesitated.

"Do you promise never to do it again?"

"Of course! I've sure learned my lesson!"

"Well then, since you're a first time offender, I guess I can let you off with a warning," he said, motioning for the guards to release the boy.

"Oh, thank you so much your majesty!" Ben bowed. For a minute T. J. thought he was going to kiss his sneakers, but instead he just ran off.

"What the heck, Teej?" Spinelli asked. "You're not going to punish him?"

"Well, I was just remembering all the unfair punishments King Freddy used to give early on... back when no one really liked him. And of course there was also Prince Randall and that time Gus became King, or when Bob declared himself Pharaoh. I just don't want the kids to hate me. Besides, like he said, he's new here, and it's the first day of school."

"I guess, but seeing him get away scot free still doesn't sit right with me."

"Hey T. J., can you come here for a minute?" Vince ran up to him, accompanied by a much smaller kid.

"Sure man, what's up?"

"It's the first graders. Since I'm the Minster of Sports and Games, they've been insisting that you and I help them with some tee-ball ruling."

"We can't decide what happens if you knock the tee over when you swing. Should it be a strike or not?" The younger kid said.

"You really need a royal ruling for that?" T. J. asked.

"It's apparently a major first grade issue that they never resolved last year, and it isn't covered in any of the rulebooks." Vince said.

"Come on, Mr. King! I'll take you to see the rest of the team!" the first grader urged.

T. J. sighed and began to follow him, when he felt a firm hand grasp his shoulder.

"T. J. Detweiler, we meet again," a raspy voice announced.

"Oh, uh, hi Ms. Finster," T. J. said, turning around to address the stern-faced teacher.

"What are you up to now, you little brat?"

"Just helping some first graders with their tee-ball problem," T. J. answered truthfully.

"Hmph," she somehow scowled even more intensely, as her eyes came to rest on the crown adorning the sixth grader's head. "You know, when I heard that they made you king, for a while I was actually optimistic."

"You were?"

"I figured if you were going to be sitting on the jungle gym all recess you'd be getting in a lot less trouble, but I was a fool to believe that. What's this I hear about a Prank Finster Day!?"

"I got no idea what you're talking about, Ms. Finster," T. J. said, laughing nervously.

"I've got my eyes on you, boy," she said, giving him another scowl before turning around to notice a group of unruly fifth graders. "Hey, you kids! No running on the grass!"

T. J. took the time to check his watch. Recess was only barely half over. He wiped the sweat off his brow. This was going to be a long day.


	5. Day Two, Part 1

**Day Two, Part 1**

T. J. slowly trudged down the hallway as the bell rang, his eyelids half covering his eyes. He didn't even notice Menlo approaching until he tapped him on the shoulder.

"Huh, what?" he asked.

"Are you alright, your majesty?"

"I'm fine. I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night," T. J. muttered.

"Well, I just came to inform you that I'll be spending recess in Ms. Lemon's office today - that is, if that's okay with you."

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"But first," Menlo continued, taking out a clipboard, "I've prepared a checklist of all of your appointments today. Please take the time to review it."

T. J. rolled his eyes, but took the clipboard anyway, giving it a quick once-over. "What's this about the Ashleys?"

"They've requested the use of your jungle gym for their annual fashion show next week," Menlo explained. "Today is when you'll be hammering out the details."

"Why would I let them use the jungle gym for that?"

"The four previous kings did. It also might have something to do with the fact that seventy percent of the money used to pay for the maintenance of the playground equipment comes from donations from the Ashleys' parents."

"Fine," T. J. groaned. "Anything else?"

"That's all for now. Don't hesitate to contact me if you have any more questions!"

* * *

 

 

**Several hours later, during lunchtime**

 

"T. J. ? T. J. come on, wake up already!"

"Huh?" T. J. sat up with a start, still hearing Spinelli's loud voice ringing in his ear.

"Sorry man, but you've been sleeping all day! You're lucky none of the teachers busted you yet!"

"Indeed. Those novelty glasses with the painted-on eyes can only fool them for so long," Gretchen added.

"Sorry guys. I think I'm okay now. I'm just glad that Mr. Dudikoff didn't assign any homework on the first day of school, because I was up past midnight memorizing the Constitution of the Playground, and I'm not even halfway through the whomping thing!"

"Weren't you supposed to memorize it over the summer?" Gus asked. T. J. frowned in reply.

"You know guys, I'm starting to think that this whole being king stuff might be more trouble than it's worth. I never imagined it would be so much work! And as far as I can tell, I'm not even doing a very good job."

"It would seem that your subjects would disagree with you on that," Mikey said.

"What do you mean?"

"Just listen to them sing your praises," the heavyset boy replied, motioning for everyone at their table to quite down so they could better overhear the other conversations going on around the lunchroom.

"Yeah, even though I'm just a fourth grader he played ten whole rounds of tetherball with me, and he didn't even get mad when I won!"

"I heard that last year the first graders tried to get King Freddy to rule on the tee-ball thing for months, but King T. J. and Vince got it all sorted out in one day!"

"-And then King T. J. gave us back all the money Ben stole from us, plus a free winger dinger each!"

"T. J.'s the best king in Third Street history!"

"Well, how about that?" T. J. said, perking up. "Maybe I'm not doing such a bad job after all."

"Uh-oh, Ashleys at four o'clock," Spinelli muttered, nudging T. J. as the four girls approached their table.

"Good morning, your majesty," Ashley A. began, in an obviously forced display of respect. "We just wanted to remind you about our Fifth Annual Third Street Runway Extravaganza. We'll of course be making use of the royal jungle gym."

"You can have it for fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Fifteen minutes? You had better like, give us at least thirty!" Ashley Q. objected.

"Yeah, or there just might not be room enough in the budget this year to keep the rust off of it!" Ashley B. added

T. J. scowled, realizing that he didn't really have a choice. Besides, it was just one day for thirty minutes. "Fine, fine, you win."

"Now just sign here to make it official," Ashley A. said, handing him a pen and paper. As he began writing his signature, the four girls approached Gus on the opposite side of the table.

"Hey Gus," Ashley B. began, "can we like, talk to you for a minute?"

"Uh, sure, I guess," he muttered, having no clues as to what they wanted.

"Well, you see, every year we've tried to bring class and style to the playground, but most of the kids in this school just have no fashion sense whatsoever."

"So, we got an idea." Ashley A. continued. "We figured that this year we would try something new. In addition to the gorgeous fall fashions we'll be modeling, we'll also have an ordinary kid wearing the lamest clothes imaginable, in order to teach everyone what not to wear!"

"Hey, that would be a good name for a TV show!" Ashley T. added.

"So anyway Gus, we'd like you to be our fashion victim. You'll be doing everyone a great service," Ashley A. smirked.

"It will be like, totally educational!" Ashley Q. said.

"Let me get this straight - you want to dress me up in ugly clothes and parade me around in front of everyone on the playground while you make fun of me?"

"Of course not," Ashley A. said. "We won't have to dress you up - you can just wear what you normally wear!" All four of the Ashleys erupted in a fit of giggles.

"Get lost, powderpuffs, or you'll have to find a way to accessorize with your dresses covered in banana pudding!" Spinelli yelled, preparing to fling a spoon of the stuff in their direction.

"It's okay Spinelli, I can handle this," Gus said, suddenly looking confident. "So what's in it for me?"

"We'll let you swim in our candy spa," Ashley B. said.

"For five minutes, no more," Ashley Q. clarified.

"Give me a moment," Gus said, looking thoughtful, as he turned to one of his friends. "Gretchen, what's the tallest cliff in the world?"

"That would be Mount Thor in Baffin Island, Canada, featuring a vertical drop of twelve hundred fifty meters, or forty-one hundred one feet," she replied instantly.

Gus turned back to face the four snobby girls. "Ashleys, I'd rather jump off Mount Thor with no parachute than be your fashion victim."

Spinelli and T. J. both smirked as they saw the four of them taken aback by Gus' bluntless.

"Like, whatever," Ashley A. snapped. "You can just forget about ever getting anywhere near our candy spa!"

As the Ashleys left in a huff, Vince leaned over towards Gus. "Wow, that was downright savage, Gus! What's gotten into you lately?"

"Whatever it is, I like it!" Spinelli said, eating a spoonful of her banana pudding.

"I just figured that since I'm a sixth grader this year, and the playground's Secretary of Defense, people need to respect me more," Gus said. "And my dad said that the best way to make that happen is to stand up for myself. After all, how am I supposed to defend the playground if I can't even defend myself?"

"An admirable attitude," Gretchen commented.

"It does seem a shame to pass up the candy spa, though," Mikey said.

"No need to worry about that," T. J. laughed. "There's enough candy hidden in the back room of the fifth and sixth graders' club to fill a tub twice as big as the one in the Ashleys' clubhouse."

"You mean the royal candy storehouse? I thought that was just a myth!" Spinelli exclaimed.

"Me too, until Paul and Joe showed it to me yesterday. Most of it is left over from last year but it's been preserved perfectly."

"I know what I'm doing this recess!" Spinelli grinned.


	6. Day Two, Part 2

**Day Two, part 2**

 

"So then Gus says: I'd rather jump off-"

"King T. J.!" a voice interrupted. The king looked up from the group of fifth graders he had been chatting with to see two of his guards approaching, holding a familiar fourth grade boy between them.

"You again?" T. J. muttered, as the guards released Ben Andrews with a rough shove, making him fall to his knees in front of T. J.

"Spinelli caught him beating up first graders this time," one of the guards said. "She told us to bring him to you since she wanted to play kickball."

"I thought I told you to never beat kids up for their lunch money again," T. J. said sternly, adjusting his crown (which was beginning to fall off the side of his head)

"We agreed I'd never beat up second graders again," the boy protested. "You never said nothing about no first graders!"

T. J. put his palm to his forehead.

"Should we take him to the dodgeball wall this time, sire?" one of the guards asked.

"Ah, come on, man, cut me a break!" Ben grovelled. "The lunches my mom packs for me taste awful and I don't even get an allowance so it's not like I can bring my own lunch money!"

"Well..." T. J. pondered, placing a finger on his chin. Just then he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat from behind him.

"Excuse me, T. J." Gretchen whispered in his ear. "May I have a word?"

"Sure Gretch," he said, motioning for the guards to restrain Ben again while he stepped back to speak with his friend.

"I know that you're concerned about appearing too authoritarian, but you don't want to err in the opposite direction either. It would be quite a detriment to your administration were you to acquire a reputation of being soft on crime."

T. J. nodded. "I see what you're saying... I think," he said, returning to face the accused fourth grader. "Ben Andrews, I sentence you to a five minute session at the dodgeball wall! And you'll get the same if I ever catch you beating up kids again!"

The accused boy's face quickly went from scared to angry. "That's not fair! You can't do this to me!"

"Of course he can, he's the king," one of the guards replied as he began dragging Ben away.

"You'll be sorry for this, T. J. Detweiler! You can count on that!"

T. J. just stood and watched silently as Ben's voice faded into the distance.

"You did the right thing, T. J." Gretchen comforted him. "Now we just have to compensate his victims like we did yesterday."

"He sounded pretty serious about making me sorry, though," T. J. muttered. "I wonder if there's anything to worry about..."

"Of course not, your majesty!" T. J.'s assistant Paul reassured him. "He's just a fourth grader. What could he possibly do to you?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," T. J. smiled. "You know what, I feel like joining Spinelli for kickball."

"Sounds good to me," Vince said. "We'll get the litter."

T. J. rolled his eyes. He still wasn't used to traveling in that thing, but hey, if Vince and the others were fine with it, he figured that he might as well go with the flow. It was kind of cool, after all.

* * *

 

 "So anyway, Gus says: I'd rather jump off Mount-" T. J.'s story was interrupted once again, this time by a sudden jolt as his litter came to a halt, nearly throwing him off the chair.

"Hey, what's the big idea?" He shouted.

"Sorry sir," one of his litter-bearers replied, "but there's a kid blocking the path."

T. J. lifted his crown, which had fallen to partially cover his eyes during the sudden stop, in order to get a better look at the interloper.

"Randall! What do you think you're doing?"

"Sorry, your majesty, but I have urgent information for you!" The weasel-like boy insisted.

"Get lost, Randall, I don't remember King T. J. appointing you as his royal snitch!" Vince said, provoking a laugh among the other litter-bearers.

"But this is really important!" Randall insisted.

T. J. sighed, jumping off the litter. "Okay Randall, I'll bite. What is it?"

Randall approached T. J., prompting one of his bodyguards to move to defend him, but T. J. waved him away.

"It's about that Andrews kid," Randall whispered. "The one you just sent to the dodgeball wall?"

"Yeah?"

"After his punishment was over I overheard him talking to himself. He's plotting to overthrow you!"

T. J. chuckled. "How is he planning to pull that off?"

"I don't know," Randall said, "but it seems that he's got some sort of connections."

"He just transferred here this year, what kind of connections could he possibly have?"

"I think he said something about his mom..."

T. J.'s chuckle transformed into a full-blown laugh. "His mom, huh? Thanks Randall, I needed a laugh."

"But King T. J.!"

"Listen Randall, I appreciate you trying to tip me off and junk, but I think I can handle it," he said, dismissing the snitch.

"Now come on, we've got a kickball game to get to!"


	7. The Usurper

**One Week Later**

T. J. had been adjusting to his role as king fairly well. Of course there were some complaints, but overall he had kept the playground running smoothly. The only thing that really annoyed him was the fact that he kept getting interrupted from whatever he was doing to deal with pressing royal business - like now.

"So what's the deal here, Menlo?" T. J. asked, putting down the comic book he had been reading.

"The diggers have just started work on a new tunnel, but the football team has expressed concerns that it will pass under their practice field. Sam and Dave have assured them that it will be structurally sound, but they're not buying it after what happened last year."

"Oh yeah, I remember that. Me and the gang had to spend all recess saving those Kindergarteners from that sinkhole."

"Indeed. And it seems that the only way to resolve the current issue is with a royal ruling."

T. J. sighed, preparing to leave the throne, when he suddenly had an idea. "Say Menlo, you know more about this whole situation than me, don't you? So why don't you handle it?"

"Me, your highness?"

"Sure." T. J. cleared his throat and started to speak in his best king voice: "For the purpose of dealing with this digger thing, I officially give you the authority to make a judgement in my place."

"Really?"

"Yep. So go already."

"Right away, sire!" Menlo exclaimed, seeming quite pleased with the responsibility he had been given.

"Gee, T. J., are you sure it's okay to trust Menlo with such an important task?" Mikey asked.

"Why not? He hasn't messed up so far," T. J. said, picking his comic book back up and leaning back in his throne. "Besides, a good king has got to know how to delegate."

"Delegate? I'm impressed," Gretchen said. "I wouldn't have expected such a word to be part of your vocabulary - no offense, of course."

"None taken. Any kid who's been hanging out with you for six years has got to have some of those brains rub off on him sooner or later," T. J. smiled, turning the page.

"I suppose so. Does that mean you won't be needing me to help you with your homework anymore?"

"Hey, I wouldn't go that far - _**WHAT!?**_ " T. J. exclaimed, holding the comic out in front of him in shock.

"Is there something wrong?" Gretchen asked.

"Is there something wrong?" T. J. repeated. "Look at this!" He held the comic up to Gretchen's face, the page he had been reading open. She took it and began to read aloud.

"And it was on that day that the being known to mortals as Hernando Delacruz acquired a new name - a name that would forever strike fear into the hearts of evildoers everywhere - Señor Fusion!"

"You see the problem, right?" T. J. asked her.

"Umm... they started a sentence with a conjunction?" she guessed. Gretchen prided herself on her encyclopedic knowledge of a vast array of subjects, but unfortunately Señor Fusion minutiae was not among them.

"It's a total retcon!" T. J. explained, taking the back the comic. "He didn't become Señor Fusion until 1954 when he got caught in Doctor Despicable's H-bomb blast! Before that he had already been fighting crime for eight years as Señor Electricity! They cut out nearly a decade of his history!" T. J. shifted back into his king voice (which Gretchen noticed that he had become more comfortable using over the past week) as he addressed one of his staff. "Scribe kid, prepare to take dictation. I'm going to write a strongly-worded letter to the editor."

"King T. J.! King T. J.!" Gus' voice suddenly called out.

"What is it now?" T. J. asked, putting down the comic again as he glanced at his friend.

"There's some lady here to see you!"

"Well tell her to wait! Can't you see I'm busy?"

"I'm sorry, but she's insisting! She also says she's a queen!"

"A queen?" This piqued T. J.'s interest. "Hold on, I'm coming," he said as he approached the edge of the jungle gym.

Staring up at him from below was a middle-aged blonde woman dressed in an unassuming pants suit, impatiently tapping one foot on the ground.

"Are you T. J. Detweiler?" she asked.

"Maybe," he replied defensively. "Who wants to know?"

"My name is Julia Andrews," she began.

"Sorry, not ringing any bells," T. J. said after an awkward pause.

"Then perhaps you'd know me better by the name Queen Julie."

T. J. thought for a bit. He did vaguely remember a Queen Julie in the list of playground rulers that he had been told to memorize before becoming king. "You used to be Queen of the Playground?"

"I sure did," she smirked. "And you're the current King, correct?"

"Yeah. Nice to meet you, I guess, but what are you doing here?"

"I assume you're familiar with the Constitution of the Playground, right?"

"Um, yeah," the king said hesitantly. Truth be told, he had yet to memorize the entire document.

"Then you know what it says in Article 5, paragraph 2, clause 4," she said matter-of-factly.

"What is this, a pop quiz? I get enough of those in class!" T. J. said, annoyed.

"Just humor me," the woman smiled.

"Fine," T. J. said, racking his brain. "Clause four... was that the one about hogging the drinking fountain?"

"That's Article 5, paragraph 4, clause 4," Gretchen corrected him. "The clause that Mrs. Andrews is referring to is the one that states that-"

"All Third Street monarchs must defer to the authority of their predecessors in order of seniority," Queen Julie finished for her.

"Oh yeah, that's why King Bob was able to tell King Freddy what to do," T. J. said, recalling the incident in the Fifth and Sixth Graders Club early in his previous school year.

"And, of course, that means that you have to answer to me," the woman said, still smiling innocently.

"Okay, I guess, but what do you want? It's not like you go to school here anymore."

"Yeah, unless she has the world record for being held back," Spinelli joked, prompting a few chuckles to spread amongst the King's staff.

Queen Julie ignored the barb and continued. "No, I don't attend this school anymore. But," she said, her smile turning devious, "my son does."

"Your son... wait, you don't mean-" T. J. said, suddenly coming to a realization.

"That's right. As your royal elder, from now on you are ordered to obey every command of Benjamin Andrews as if he were me," she said.

The fourth grader in question then stepped out from behind one of the legs of the jungle gym. "Thanks mom," he said, rubbing his hands together in glee as he eyed T. J. with a look of anticipated revenge. "I'll take it from here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the chapters I had already written, so from now on I will be posting them as I write them, which will take significantly longer.


	8. The Usurper, Part 2

"All right, all right! One side, chuckleheads!" Ben shouted as he pushed his way past the guards at the base of the jungle gym and began the climb up. "Make way for your new ruler!"

Still recovering from the shock, T. J. didn't even have the chance to voice an objection before the fourth grader had pushed his way past him and planted his butt on the throne.

"Ah, this is comfy," he said, grinning.

"Hey, you can't just come up here and take over!" Spinelli objected.

"I'm afraid he can," Gretchen said. "The Constitution of the Playground leaves no room for interpretation in this matter."

"Maybe not, but I bet this jerk's face leaves a lot of room for my fist!"

"Cool down, Spinelli," T. J. said, stepping in front of her. "You're not going to solve anything that way."

"For my first command," Benjamin Andrews began, ignoring all three of them, "all of my subjects are to refer to me as Lord Ben The Awesome."

"Oh please," Spinelli muttered, too quietly for the new ruler to hear.

"And for my second command..." he hesitated. "Who does the announcements around here?"

"That would be me, Mr. - um, Lord Ben The Awesome," Mikey said shyly.

"Fine, then. Come here!"

Mikey approached the throne and Ben began whispering in his ear, the Royal Announcer's frown deepening with every word. When he was done, Mikey was positively aghast.

"Are you sure? That's really-"

" **Just do it!** " Ben shouted, raising a leg to aim a kick at Mikey's shin (which missed).

"Fine," the large boy sighed, approaching the edge of the jungle gym and taking out a megaphone.

" **Hear ye! Hear ye!** " He began, not bothering to sing this time. A crowd of kids soon began to gather. Mikey looked over his shoulder, only to see Ben glaring at him and giving him a _'get on with it_ ' gesture.

"Kids of the playground, your previous failure of a king has been replaced. From now on, the ruler of the playground will be Ben Andrews, who will be known from now on as Lord Ben The Awesome."

Muttering and whispering immediately broke out among the crowd.

"And as punishment for his incontinence-"

"That's **incompetence** , you big doofus!" Ben interrupted, standing up. "Here, let me do it," he said as the grabbed the microphone out of Mikey's hands.

"As punishment for T. J.'s incompetence, I hereby sentence him to the dodgeball wall!"

The crowd gasped.

"Guards?"

Two sixth grade boys heeded Ben's command and grabbed T. J., dragging him towards the ladder on the edge of the jungle gym.

"Hey, what did T. J. do to deserve that?" Spinelli asked angrily.

"Everything," Ben replied with a laugh.

"You're cruising for a bruising, kid!"

"Calm down, Spinelli. We'll find a way out of this. Besides, I can stand five minutes at the dodgeball wall no problem," T. J. reassured her.

"Five minutes? Try all recess!" Ben laughed again.

"All recess? You cruel fiend!" Mikey exclaimed.

"On second thought, take the fat kid too," Ben said, gesturing at Mikey. Two more guards immediately moved to restrain him.

"All right, that's it, I'm gonna cream the little weasel!" Spinelli shouted. However, her path to Lord Ben was quickly blocked by two more guards. She eyed them up for a few seconds - she figured that she could probably take on any of these kids one-on-one, but there was no way she could take on so many at the same time. She sighed and backed down.

"That's right, know your place, tomboy!" Ben mocked.

"What did you call-" she stopped as she suddenly found herself surrounded by half a dozen athletic sixth graders. The Italian girl snorted in anger and sat down helplessly as she watched T. J. and Mikey being led across the playground.

"That's better," Ben smirked, returning to the throne. "I'm hungry, get me some winger dingers!" He commanded. Paul quickly left to retrieve the snacks.

Ben laid back on the chair and took his shoes off. "Hey, nerd girl!" he shouted to Gretchen.

"I have a name, you know," she mumbled.

"Don't care," he replied. "My feet itch. Scratch them for me!"

"That's not exactly my job," she said, wondering when this nightmare would be over.

"It is now! Unless you want to join your friends at the dodgeball wall?"

Gretchen sighed and rolled back her sleeves. She just hoped that the girls' bathroom wasn't out of liquid soap again, as she expected that she would need a lot of it after this recess.

"Your winger dingers as requested, Lord Ben The Awesome," Paul said, handing him a plate.

"Finally! Took you long enough," Ben snapped as he took a bite. He immediately spit the confection right into Paul's face. "These are strawberry flavored winger dingers! I wanted chocolate!"

The sixth grade boy sighed and wiped the saliva and chunks of semi-chewed snack cake off of his glasses. "Right away, my lord."

"And don't mess it up again, or I'll send you to the dodgeball wall too!"

Gus Griswald ran past the swings in a panic. Amidst the upheaval earlier, no one had noticed him stealthily making his escape from the jungle gym. Not that it did him any good - the closest thing to a plan he had right now was to find Vince and hope that he had an idea. Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice.

"Hey Gus, slow down, would you?"

Gus stopped and looked around. At first he didn't see anyone, but then, from behind a nearby tree emerged a kid with a white streak in his hair, chewing on a toothpick.

"Butch? What's going on?"

"That's what I was hoping you could tell me," the boy said, taking the toothpick out of his mouth. "Normally I'm on top of all of the goings-on around here, but I don't have a clue this time. What's that fourth grader got on T. J.?"

"Well you see Ben wanted revenge on King T. J. for sending him to the dodgeball wall even though he deserved it for beating up little kids and taking their lunch money so he got his mom who used to be a queen to force T. J. to give the throne over to her son because it says in the Constitution of the Playground that-"

"Whoa, slow down," Butch said. "What's this about a queen?"

"Ben's mom used to rule the playground as Queen Julie, and apparently the rules say that means she can boss the current king around," Gus explained again.

"Did you just say... Queen Julie?"

"You've heard of her?"

"I wish I hadn't," Butch said. Gus wasn't sure if it was just his imagination but it seemed that an eerie musical theme started playing at just that moment. "The legends say she was bad, real bad. One of the most hated and feared rulers in the history of Third Street. My big brother knew a student teacher who went to school back when she was queen - he heard stories that used to keep him up all night."

"W-what kind of stuff did she do that was so bad?"

"They say she was the one who started the Kindergarden Derby. But that's just the beginning. The rest - you don't wanna know."

Gus gulped. "What can we do?"

"Beats me," Butch said, chomping down on his toothpick again. "But one thing's for sure - if this Ben kid is anything like his old lady, I'd look into switching schools. Things are only going to get worse from here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had this chapter written up previously, but it was lost when the Third Street School forum was shut down and I didn't save it, so I've done my best to reconstruct it from memory here (along with some modifications which I hope count as improvements).


	9. The Tyrant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben does the best to make the playground miserable for everyone other than himself - while T.J. searches for a plan.

"I asked for extra-chewy Beanie McGum! This is the regular kind!" the newly-christened Lord Ben The Awesome shouted at one of his assistants, spitting out the offending confection and holding it between his thumb and index finger with a disgusted look on his face.

"Right away, my lord," Joe sighed, as he took the chewed wad of gum and left to retrieve the right kind. It hadn't even been half an hour and already the sixth grader was missing T. J., Freddy, and Bob. Heck, he'd even settle for King Gus or Prince Randall at this rate!

"Lord Ben, the Ashleys are here to see you," Gretchen interrupted.

"Who?" Ben asked, before peering over the edge of the jungle gym. "Oh, those annoying girls. What do they want?"

"I'd imagine they're here for their annual fashion show, as they have a contract to use the jungle gym for the event."

"Yeah right!" The fourth grader snorted in derision. "Maybe Detweiler would let them use his castle for sissy stuff like that, but I'm in charge now!"

"It's neither wise nor honorable to renege on an agreement like-"

"Shut up!" Ben cut Gretchen off. "If I want your advice, I'll ask for it! Now, watch how a real king deals with those girlies!" He stood up and approached the edge of the jungle gym, looking down at the four girls standing hopefully at the base of the structure.

"Like, we heard you totally took over from King T. J.!" Ashley A. began. She then joined her three friends in a chorus of "Scandalous!"

"But this won't affect our fashion show, right?" Ashley Q. asked. "We just wanted to make sure you know that it's scheduled for tomorrow."

Ben stroked his chin with his finger, seeming to ponder something. "You four like fashion, huh? You like looking pretty?"

"Well, duh!" Ashey A. instantly replied.

"Guards," Ben said, snapping his fingers, "get the hose."

On cue, two fifth graders appeared from behind the jungle gym, carrying the dreaded riot control device. Ben then whispered something to a few other members of his staff, who quietly descended from the roof of the jungle gym.

"You're not going to, like, use that on us, are you?" Ashley B. asked, as all four girls looked at the hose in apprehension.

"Of course not," Ben smiled, gesturing at the guards. "Point it at the ground and let it run for a bit."

The fifth graders obeyed, soaking the dirt in front of the jungle gym and creating a large mud puddle.

"Gross! What are you doing?" Ashley A. asked.

"Let's see how pretty you'll look after this!" Ben shouted, as the kids he had been whispering to earlier suddenly appeared behind the Ashleys and pushed them into the mud.

"My dress! It's ruined!" Ashley A. shouted.

"What about my dress? It's not even machine washable!" Ashley B. replied, trying to stand up but slipping and falling back into the mud.

"What did we do to deserve this!?" Ashley Q. yelled at the jungle gym.

"You annoyed me," Ben replied, laughing with sadistic glee as the four girls ran off crying.

Spinelli watched the scene with mixed feelings. Normally, she would find the idea of the four stuck-up rich girls falling in a mud puddle to be hilarious, but something about what she had just witnessed left a bad taste in her mouth.

'I can't believe I'm actually feeling sorry for the Ashleys,' she thought grimly.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

The next day, T. J. couldn't help but notice the many harsh glares he received in the halls. All he could do was chuckle nervously and try to explain that it wasn't his fault, but the kids needed someone to blame - someone who wouldn't send them to the dodgeball wall for doing so, that is. As the former king sat at his desk he looked out at the playground, tuning out Mr. Dudikoff's lesson on World War II. His dream school year was quickly becoming a nightmare.

Just then, the bell rang - but it wasn't greeted with the usual jubilation. Instead, everyone stayed in their seats, looking out the window nervously.

"What are you waiting for, kids? It's time for recess!" Mr. Dudikoff said, closing his textbook.

"Um, Mr. Dudikoff? Can we... skip recess today?" A girl near the back of the class asked. All of the other students nodded in agreement.

"Skip recess? What's going on?"

"Well, you see, your lesson is just so interesting that it would be a shame to stop right here," T. J. said, giving 'The Dude' his best winning smile.

Mr. Dudikoff rolled his eyes. "Okay, what's really gong on?"

"It's that brat Ben Andrews!" Spinelli shouted. "He took over the playground and he seems bent on making everybody as miserable as humanly possible!"

"He pushed us in the mud!" Ashley A. exclaimed.

"He took away our shovels!" Digger Dave said.

"He revoked my business license!" Hustler Kid added.

"Please, there's got to be something you can do about him!" T. J. begged.

"Sorry, I wish I could, but I don't have any jurisdiction over the playground. That's Ms. Finster's job," Franklin Dudikoff said nervously.

"Oh come on! Do you really think Finster is going to fix this!" Vince asked.

"Hey, it's at least worth a shot," Gus said.

The gang all looked at him and shrugged, not seeing a better option.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

"Absolutely not," intoned the stern voice of Muriel P. Finster.

"But Ms. Finster-"

"No buts, Detweiler! Personally, I think the new king is doing an excellent job. He's even better at disciplining you hooligans than I am! I can tell that boy has a bright future. Besides, you kids were always having too much fun at recess anyway."

"What did I tell you?" Vince sighed.

"Now get out of my office! Recess started five minutes ago!" Ms. Finster shouted. The gang reluctantly marched back out into the hallway.

"Man, this whomps," T. J. murmured.

"You're telling me," said Gretchen. "If I have to scratch his feet one more time-"

"Hey guys!" Paul's voice interrupted from down the hall. "Lord Ben the Awesome has convened a meeting of all of his senior staff at the jungle gym! He probably won't be happy if we're late."

"Great, what's he planning now?" Spinelli grumbled. "Is he going to start punishing kids for breathing?"

"Come on, we'd better get there before he gets suspicious," Vince said with a sigh. "See you later, Teej."

T. J. waved a subdued goodbye to his friends as they headed out onto the playground. At least he didn't have to go to the meeting - but for all he knew, Ben just might make him spend all recess at the dodgeball wall again. If only Mr. Dudikoff had let them stay inside-

"Wait, that's it!" T. J. said, veering away from the front door and instead approaching the stairs leading to a door labeled '51'.

"Gondor Primulon, King J. T.!" Frank, the leader of the so-called 'Pale Kids', greeted him as he entered the room. "We're honored that you've decided to grace us with your presence!"

"Um yeah, about that whole king thing, it turns out that-"

"The stress of the job is getting to you? Say no more - we'll be glad to help you recuperate!"

"Would you like to join our newest Daggers and Dragons campaign? We have room for another party member," Steve said, gesturing towards the multi-tiered game board.

"Sure, why not?" T. J. sighed, taking a seat at the table. "So what's the story?"

"It is a riveting tale indeed!" Rodney began. "The evil sorceress Morgana has overthrown the kingdom of Resvitopia and installed her wicked son Montred as the new ruler!"

"Our quest is to liberate the kingdom from his oppressive rule and restore the rightful king to the throne!" Frank finished.

"Wow, that sounds familiar," T. J. said as he grabbed a character sheet. He felt kind of bad about spending recess in room 51 while his friends suffered on the playground, but what else could he do? At least Ben hadn't found out about the Pale Kids yet - he would probably force them to play outside just because he knew they didn't like it.

Still, with every roll of the dice. T. J.'s mind worked furiously, trying to find a way to put an end to the reign of Benjamin Andrews.


	10. Familiar Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T. J. tries to contact (former) King Bob for help with the Ben situation.

T. J. sighed as he closed the door behind him, dropping his backpack to the floor.

"How was school, honey?" his oblivious mother asked.

"Same as usual, mom," the boy replied. "At least since Ben took over," he added under his breath.

Actually, today might have been the worst day yet for the playground. Having spent recess indoors with the Pale Kids, T. J. only learned afterwards about the Gathering of the Grades Ben had called, to announce his new lunch money tax - a **100%** lunch money tax. With the hundreds of kids in the school paying him, Ben was probably making more money than Principal Prickly now! All while everyone else was forced to starve.

"Dirty, no-good, rotten..." T. J. mumbled as he headed up the stairs to his room. He was so preoccupied with his anger at Ben that he didn't notice his sister, Becky, as she rounded the corner.

"Hey, watch where you're going, T-Jerk!" Becky shouted, as the two nearly collided.

T. J. was about to retort with _"That's King T-Jerk to you!"_ before he realized that he couldn't even claim that anymore. Instead, he muttered a quick "sorry", and entered his room, collapsing face-up on his bed.

"Man, things were so much simpler back in the old days," he muttered, flipping through a comic book. "I'm just not used to all of these playground politics. I wonder how King Bob would have handled this?"

Suddenly, a metaphorical light bulb appeared above the sixth grader's head. "That's it! I'll just ask him!" He sprang out of bed and headed to the kitchen, trying to ignore the sound of gossip emanating from his older sister's room. "Man, I'm sure glad we got a second phone line installed last month," he smiled, as he took the wireless receiver from the kitchen phone. His mom and dad were too busy cooking and reading the newspaper, respectively, to notice, as he absconded with it to the living room.

"Come on, it has to be in here somewhere," T. J. mumbled, sifting through the contents of a seldom-opened cabinet drawer. "Don't tell me that mom threw it away... Aha!" he exclaimed, finally finding what he had been looking for: The Third Street School Fourth Grade Handbook, given to his parents at the beginning of that year. He never really understood why the school included the home addresses and phone numbers of every student in attendance each year in these books, but he was glad they did. Flipping to the Sixth Grade section, he began poring over the list. "Now what was Bob's last name again?"

Finally, he found the number, and began dialing. "I just hope they didn't move within the last two years," he said, as the phone began to ring.

"Hello?" came the voice of a kind-sounding woman.

"Uh, yeah," T. J. began. "Can I speak to Ki- uh, I mean, to Bob, please?"

"Sure, just one minute." The woman on the other end of the phone line could then be heard shouting "Bobby! One of your friends from school is on the phone!"

"I'll be right down, mom!" T. J. heard a voice shout back. It had been a while since he had heard that particular voice, but he recognized it instantly. Things were starting to look up.

"Whoever this is, this had better be important," the former king said, tone filled with authority and impatience.

T. J. laughed nervously. "Uh, hi Bob. It's me, T. J. Detweiler, from Third Street. Remember?"

"Remember you, Detweiler? How could I forget?" Bob's voice shifted to a more cheerful demeanor. "Sorry for my rudeness earlier, but you caught me in the middle of doing my homework, and this algebra stuff is hard."

"Heh, don't worry about it, your majesty," T. J. replied, using the royal address out of habit.

"It should be _your_ majesty now, shouldn't it?" Bob replied. "I heard you made king this year. I only regret that I couldn't have attended your coronation ceremony."

"Yeah, about that," T. J. continued, "The reason I'm calling is actually because I need some advice."

"Ah, of course, I should have figured," Bob said, slipping back into the typical tone of voice T. J. had known him to use as king. "It's only natural that the new King of the Playground would seek guidance from his illustrious predecessor. What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, it's like this-"

"-No, don't tell me, let me guess," the former monarch cut him off. "Are the Kindergarteners threatening to rebel again? I always found that the best way to keep them pacified was with candy. It doesn't even have to be good candy - just grab a few handfuls of the cheap stuff from the five cent bin at Kelso's. They'll never be able to tell the difference!"

"I'm afraid it's a lot worse than that," T. J. replied. "You see, this kid called Ben Andrews..."

"What? This is an outrage!" Bob exclaimed, after T. J. had finished getting him up to speed on the situation. "That clause was intended so that older, wiser kings and queens could make sure that their successors weren't abusing their power. It wasn't meant for this kind of nepotism!"

"Nepo - what now?"

"Sorry, eighth grade vocabulary word," Bob said. "The point is that this is terrible! A coup like this could forever disgrace the reputation of the Third Street Crown!"

"You're telling me. Is there anything you can do to help?"

"Alas, I'm afraid not, Detweiler. Queen Julie outranks me just as surely as she outranks you. She must be as old as my mom by now."

T. J. sighed. "I was worried about that. Do you at least have any tips?"

"Just one," Bob's voice took on a serious, somber tone. "Don't give up, Detweiler. Things may seem bad, but if there's anyone who can find a way to beat those two, I know it's you. I've seen you and your friends do some amazing things, and I have the utmost confidence in you."

"Wow, thanks," T. J. said, feeling motivated as he hung up the phone. King Bob was right - they had gotten out of worse jams than this before. And he already had a plan.

"Enjoy the throne while you can Ben, because you're going down," T. J. said, a devious grin on his face.


	11. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T. J. and the gang meet up to discuss their options for deposing Ben.

The Third Street School cafeteria was full of kids sitting at empty tables, save one in the middle, where a certain fourth grader was surrounded by his sixth grade guards, and several dozen fish tacos.

"Hah, this lunch money tax was such a great idea!" Ben Andrews exclaimed in between bites. "Now I can buy all the lunch I want!"

"If you say so, sire," muttered Paul, one of his assistants.

"Since we've done such a good job of loyally guarding you," Joe began, "would it be possible for us to have just one fish taco? Please?"

The fourth grade tyrant grumbled angrily, grabbing a half-eaten taco from a nearby plate. "Fine, but just one, and you'll have to share it."

The two older boys looked at each other. "But sire, your teeth marks are all over this one..."

" **Take it or leave it!** " Ben announced, and the two sixth graders reluctantly did the former, their intense hunger overcoming their disgust.

"Look at that little twerp," Spinelli muttered from several tables away. "I hope he chokes on those tacos!"

"You should have had your mom pack you a lunch from home like I did," Mikey said as he unpacked a sandwich, only to have it snatched out of his hands just as he was preparing to take a bite.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, new law," a fifth grade girl proclaimed, holding the sandwich. "Lord Ben The Awesome," (she recited the title with a slight roll of her eyes) "has decreed that all lunches brought from home must be rendered unto him as part of the lunch tax."

"Oh," Mikey said, looking downcast.

"Come on Mikey, are you just going to let him get away with that?" Spinelli asked.

"It's not that bad, Spinelli. There's no way that one kid could eat all of those lunches, so there are bound to be leftovers."

Several seconds later, the low murmur in the room was interrupted by a loud retch of disgust.

" **Eeew! What is this!?** " Ben asked, as he spit out the bite he had just taken of Mikey's sandwich.

"It's mayonnaise, cucumber, and bananas," Mikey exclaimed, inching over to Ben's table in the hopes of recovering the sandwich.

"And you actually eat this? Is this some kind of plot to poison me?" Ben shouted.

"No sire, of course not," Mikey bowed apologetically. "But... if you don't like it, could I maybe... have it back?"

Ben scowled, then stared at the offending sandwich. "Sure, you can have it back," he said, a cruel smile playing over his face.

"Oh, thank you very-" but before Mikey could finish, Ben threw the sandwich on the floor and stomped on it repeatedly, until it was nothing but a loose collection of smashed, dirty bread and goop.

" _Bon Appetit!_ " he laughed, as Mikey looked down at his former lunch, before trudging off dejectedly back to the table with his friends.

"Man, that guy is such a jerk!" Vince exclaimed, doing his best to hide the candy bar he had snuck from home. "What does he want us to do, starve?"

"I honestly wouldn't be surprised if that was his objective," Gretchen muttered, resting one hand on her chin.

"Psst! You guys!" A whispered voice suddenly interrupted their conversation.

"Menlo?" Gus asked. "What's up?"

"Keep it down!" Menlo shushed. "T. J. told me to tell you guys to meet him in the library during lunch, so let's get going."

"What if Lord Ben The Awful and his cronies notice that we're gone?" Spinelli asked.

"I don't think we'll have to worry about that," Gus replied. "It looks like they're too busy trying to confiscate everyone's lunches."

"Hey, give me that candy bar!" A sixth grader said, snatching the snack out of Vince's hands just as he finished opening it.

The gang briefly shared a look, before wordlessly getting up and deciding to follow Menlo to the library.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

"Good call on meeting in the library, Teej," Spinelli said, as all seven of them gathered around a table near the library computers. "Ben would never think to look for us here. Well, except for Gretchen... and Mikey, but only in the poetry section."

"Please tell me you have a plan, T. J.!" Gus begged

"I certainly do," he said, adjusting his baseball cap. "Ladies and Gentlemen, feast your eyes on this!" He reached into his backpack and took out an old, tattered scroll, unfolding it over the table.

"What's that?" Gus asked. Gretchen, meanwhile, was already inspecting the document.

"That's the official record of the playground royalty stretching back to 1934!"

"Luckily I took it home to try to memorize it before Ben took over," T. J. said.

"I don't get it, how is this going to help us?" Mikey asked.

"Think about it, big guy. Ben can only boss me around because his mom was queen before I was. So all we have to do is find a king or queen from before that!"

"Of course! It's so simple!" Gretchen said, smacking her forehead for not thinking of the idea herself.

"Hey, Mr. Dudikoff used to be king, didn't he?" Gus asked. "Why don't we just ask him?"

"That was the first thing I thought of too, but according to the list he didn't become king until 1980, and Mrs. Andrews was queen back in 1972." T. J. explained.

"So how are we going to find any of them? They're all grownups now and they could be living anywhere!" Vince objected.

"That's why I brought us here. Gretchen, Menlo, I want you two to get online. Start looking up as many of these names as you can."

The two didn't need to be told twice, as they immediately logged on and began browsing.

"There are dozens of kids who ruled the playground before Queen Julie," T. J. said, looking over the scroll again. "We should be able to get in touch with at least one of them."

"Hey, I've found something!" Gretchen announced, typing away excitedly. "Mackenzie Jordan, known as King Mac, ruler of the playground from 1939 to 1941. Later graduated and became a sports columnist for a major newspaper."

"Does it give his phone number?"

"Yes, but... he's listed as deceased as of 1993." The kids all sighed.

"I think I've found another lead," Menlo piped up. "Queen Ashley II, who held the throne from 1950 to 1951. It says here she's a retired fashion model and-" Menlo groaned. "There's no contact information."

"Don't get discouraged, Menlo," Gretchen said, double-clicking a link on the screen. "There are plenty more we can try." The two of them kept up their research until the bell for recess finally rang.

"So, what did you two find?" Gus asked.

"Better make it quick, before Ben and his goons wonder why we're not at the dodgeball wall," Spinelli muttered.

"Well, we found records pertaining to Queen Sherry-" Gretchen began.

"But nothing after she moved to France ten years ago," Menlo added. "Then there was King Otto-"

"Who dropped off the grid completely in 1984," Gretchen finished for him. "I was close to tracking down Queen Betty-"

"But it was just someone else with the same name," Menlo said. "And there was an article about the former King Sam-"

"Who went MIA in the Vietnam War," Gretchen sighed.

"Well I'm not ready to give up just yet," T. J. insisted, packing the scroll back into his backpack. "Let's all meet here again at the same time tomorrow, and then we can try again."

"Try _what_ again?" An accusing voice interrupted. The seven kids all turned to see Ben standing at the entrance to the library, several guards flanking him on each side.


End file.
